


Bitchboy

by dinkydykeviking



Category: The Goldfinch (2019), The Goldfinch - Donna Tartt
Genre: Casual Sex, Cat Ears, F slur, Homophobic Language, Idk I used the word Dick??, Internalized Homophobia, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Angst, Non-Explicit Sex, Non-Graphic Smut, Religious Images, The Passion of Christ painting, Theo's pining, Theo's yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 19:08:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30060183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dinkydykeviking/pseuds/dinkydykeviking
Summary: I just thought Theo in Cat ears. In which Theo misses Boris, yearns and pretends strangers are him.
Relationships: Theodore Decker/Boris Pavlikovsky, Theodore Decker/Original Male Character(s)
Kudos: 6





	Bitchboy

**Author's Note:**

> A/N - God I really need to work out what fandoms I’m still in because I need more characters to take stuff out on, I’ve been really taking it out on Theo and he doesn’t deserve it tbhh, first I make him trans with gender issues, then eating issues and now? Well.. cat ears and some NSFW mentions (CW - F slur)

Theo’s college experience wasn’t the race to the finish line he thought it would be. He was no fool, his year in Las Vegas - his year in purgatory - had been spent in a haze of drink, drugs and Boris. In truth, his arrival in New York had left him feeling like Edmund from the Chronicles of Narnia, the boy who sold out his family to be king. But in the end, after years spent as a king, Edmund turned back into a boy and that's exactly how Theo felt. The more time he spent in London, the more time Las Vegas began to feel like a hedonistic mirage. Living in the ‘real world’ meant learning that the rules suddenly apply again, Theo’s felt like a colt chafing at the bit. If the bit was coming apart in his mouth. The early college program he worked so hard for, didn’t even seem that prestigious, instead a geeky academic playground which he wanted nothing to do with.

The other students were well meaning enough but truly Theo felt apathetic and unable to connect to his peers. The teachers all seemed to know he was in the museum explosion and delighted to ask many questions. Theo knew he had always been naturally intelligent, or able to coast along without much effort but it was clear that his teachers expected more from him due to his trauma. They envisioned him a ‘tortured artist’, his first set of bad grades could be explained away - still waters run deep and aftercalls the boy’s been through it’s understandable - but midterm grades? “Theodore participates very little in class and appears to have no desire to expend any more attention on his studies than absolutely necessary” - Hell he was even failing Russian, the one class he actually wanted to study though he would never be fluent enough to read the assigned literature, he tried to kid himself that knowing the curse words was enough for him. If not for the fact that they were fading fast from his memory. Theo spent his days longing for the night, where he could shut his eyes tightly and construct the ghost of Boris.

If Theo concentrated hard enough, he could even smell the cigarettes he smoked and sometimes that would be enough. Though the night and its demons were relentless, there was an itch under his skin leaving him shaky and feverish like his first night back at Hobie’s. Cigarettes couldn’t be enough when he was gripped like this. He cast his mind back to the images of the Passions of Christ and shuddered. Breathe in and breath out. Somewhere in his room a lighter flickered, smoke blowing into his face causing Theo to cough. He was here. As his own hand masquerading as the Russians, his movements even the way he would trace and grip Theo’s hips. The ghost of him was strong, ‘Potter!..любимый’. It didn’t take long for Theo to reach his peak, his face was flushed but it was his heart that burned as he made his clean up trip to the bathroom. He wasn’t a faggot or an ‘old poofter’, as Boris said, not that he meant it derogatorily but Theo just wasn’t and that was the end of it. After all he liked Pippa too and longed for her in the healthy way a growing boy should. 

-

It was in between his third and fourth year at college that Theo met Jerome, his life with Boris had taught him many things but most importantly how to find a dealer when you needed it. The pills he had stolen from Xandra, while at first were meant for emergencies, only ran out just on the eve of his eighteenth birthday, of course at this point it was doubtful that he could go too long without abusing substances. So thank God for Jerome. Theo bought more pills mostly, opiates that left him without a care in the world. If he wasn’t already apathetic, the pills he took could bear the responsibility of his academic failures. Instead of the usual 2-3 years spent in college, he finished in six. But Theo’s days roaming the back streets of New York weren’t spent in vain, he had learned something Boris and Las Vegas couldn’t teach him. How to spot people interested in him, the way some men would eye the back of his body in his freshly pressed suits. Faceless strangers who were hungry like he was. Neither of the parties were gay, it was just stress relief. The ups and downs of selling dodgy antiques, the mellow cushion of pills and even this, bedding of sorts was all part of it. In Las Vegas, Theo felt he was living in between worlds, his stay in purgatory but spent the years since then trying desperately to recreate it.

So what if these men happened to look like Boris, it was easier when Theo took off his glasses, faces became blurry allowing him to focus on the stranger’s curly dark hair and the strength in his hands, leading him to dark always or in a club bathroom. Sometimes in rare occasions even a house. There was never any tender affection or words but Theo never wanted them, his trousers were down to his ankles and he laid across the bed. The Stranger’s hands prepped him roughly with his fingers, with a grunt he removed his fingers leaving Theo empty and wanting.

‘Here, put these on’, was the Stranger’s single command, tossing him a pair of black cat ears with bells on the ears. 

Theo pushed the cat ears onto his head, crying out as he was swiftly entered, he was bigger than any of the usual men Theo went for. Bells rang out with every thrust as Theo groaned into the bed. He could feel the stranger’s balls slap into him, his dick hitting the most intimate of Theo’s senses as his groans turned into mewls that he could no longer hide in the bedspread.

‘God yeah.. You’re my fucking bitchboy aren't you?’

It didn’t last long, once they were satisfied Theo was free to do his walk of shame and stew in boiling bathwater, scrubbing at his skin with soap. He wasn’t gay but he was certainly more relaxed.


End file.
